Telephone Booth
by pyrebi
Summary: There's something Chloe's always wanted to try, so why pass up that opportunity now? Thoroughly goofy, fluffy Chlark.


Just a silly little blurb that popped into my head while listening to "Jimmy Olsen's Blues." This fic has nothing to do that song, except for the lyrics in the sixth line...well, except it might since Jimmy's said to be appearing as "a romantic interest" for our dear Chloe in the sixth season. In that case, poor Jimmy. Anyway, more random cheesy Chlarky goodness over here. Future-fic. Set in roughly the same universe as "Late Night Conversations Never Make Sense."A huge thank-you to all of my reviewers who liked that story!

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"I can't believe they still have these things around," Chloe whistled softly. "I thought they got rid of all of them."

Clark rolled his eyes behind his glasses. "No. We obviously need to have dinner at the deli more often if you didn't know this was on the way." Clark had been out most of the evening on business of the red-boots-and-cape type and had just returned a little while before, so he and Chloe had gone down a few blocks to the delicatessen for a sandwich.

"So it's seriously a telephone booth?" his wife said, dubious, as she stepped inside. "I thought everyone used cell phones now."

"Not everyone. Besides, some of us happen to like telephone booths," Clark harrumphed.

"I'll bet you do," Chloe grinned. "Hey Clark, there's something I've always wanted to try, ever since I found out about you and your little telephone booth thing."

"'Little telephone booth thing'...?" the man echoed incredulously, shaking his head. He was cut off, though, when Chloe reached out, grabbed his tie, and pulled him in after her. She reached past him and slid the door shut with a smirk.

It was rather tight in the little box, Clark's broad frame taking up most of the space. Quirking an eyebrow, he asked, "Just what exactly are you doing?"

Chloe played with the buttons on Clark's shirt and continued to smirk up at him, then stood on her tip-toes and kissed him on the mouth. She felt her husband gasp softly against her lips and she giggled.

Pulling away hastily, Clark coughed. "In case you haven't noticed, Chloe, these walls are _glass_. No one needs X-ray vision to see through them."

"Oh, hush. No one's around anyway. It's kinda late, in case _you_ haven't noticed. Now kiss me back already," she scoffed before grabbing his collar and pulling his lips down onto hers again. This time Clark made little objection.

It was pretty easy to get lost in their own world when their own world was the size of a telephone booth. That's why the Metropolis police officer had to knock twice before he heard the tell-tale exclamations and guilty giggles from inside the fogged box. The door opened and a rather disheveled-looking Clark stumbled out, putting his glasses back on and attempting to tame his mussed hair. He just hoped he hadn't missed any buttons on his shirt that would expose the blue suit underneath. Having Superman caught necking with some girl in a telephone booth wouldn't reflect well on the Man of Steel. Chloe followed him, still panting slightly but with the hugest Cheshire grin he'd ever seen.

They both stood nodding mutely as the officer lectured them on the inappropriateness of public displays of affection on—or _in_, as the case may be—city property. Luckily, the policeman saw the wedding bands on their fingers and let them go with a warning and not a citation. "Just don't do it again, okay, kids?" he said with a shake of his head.

Clark moaned in embarrassment, though, as soon the officer had left. "Look at that," he said, pointing to the huge clear streaks in the condensation on the inside of the booth where their bodies and hands had rubbed it off. "I can never use this one again without thinking about what just happened!"

Chloe smirked. He hadn't had a real, honest blush this good on his face for years, and she was loving every minute of it. "Good. One more memory for the scrapbook," she declared happily, whipping out her digital camera and snapping a picture of the proof.

"You just ruined my most convenient changing location for me! Do you know how hard it's getting to find telephone booths in this city?" he cried in exasperation.

"Nope. All I know is I just made out with Superman in a telephone booth," the blonde said in a sing-song voice, grin becoming even wider, if that was possible. "Now let's go home. I want to pick up where we left off."

Clark allowed himself to be dragged back, still blushing furiously.

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All done! Heehee, told you it was random and cheesy. Leave a review if you like random cheese, eh?


End file.
